Crossing the Borders of Identity Politics Disgrace by J.M. Coetzee and Agaat by Marlene van Niekerk Rosemarie Buikema UTRECHT UNIVERSITY ABSTRACT This text seeks to rethink the relationship between literature and the gendered construction of national boundaries. It does so by proposing a recon - sideration of the terms singularity, difference and literariness while analysing two talked-about and best-selling postcolonial novels, Disgrace (1999) by J.M. Coetzee and Agaat (2004) by Marlene van Niekerk. KEY WORDS J.M. Coetzee N difference N feminist literary theory N singularity N truth and reconciliation N Marlene van Niekerk Those works that continue to feed our thoughts, conversations and emo - tions belong to great art, as defined by Nobel Prize winner Toni Morrison (1992). As opposed to amusement, these works of art do not only reveal something about the time and place in which they are functioning, but their singularity also has the potential to appeal over and over again to successive generations. I am not claiming too much when in the course of this article I argue that both Disgrace (1999) by J.M. Coetzee and Agaat (2004) by Marlene van Niekerk will turn out to aspire to such greatness. Both novels raise prob - lems that foreground the limits of our judgement and imaginative pow - ers. Both novels embody a search, not so much for the right answers as for a state of susceptibility to the right questions. That’s why in my contribu - tion to this special issue, ‘Writing across Borders’, these two best-selling and prize-winning South African novels will guide my course. The cul - tural field surrounding Disgrace and Agaat gives me all the more reason © The Author(s), 2009. Reprints and permissions: http://www.sagepub.co.uk/ journalsPermissions.nav European Journal of Women’s Studies, 1350-5068; Vol. 16(4): 309 –323; 342615; DOI: 10.1177/1350506809342615 http://ejw.sagepub.com 310 European Journal of Women’s Studies 16(4) for a further reformulation of my ideas about how and why to cross the borders of genres, disciplines and national cultures. The work of both has become, both nationwide and across the world, the focus of fierce debate with respect to the exact relation between literature and nation building, or, more generally speaking, the relation between literature and the con - struction of identity. The nature of such discussions is exemplary for the practice of interpretation within feminist studies in the 21st century. These two novels then, and the debate they have engendered, will act as a touch - stone for proposing new coalitions between the different forms of study ing culture. Thus, I hope to clarify my views on literature, boundary crossing and nationhood. The narrative events in Disgrace are centred on the white South African literary scholar David Lurie, who makes the mistake of starting an affair with a coloured female student. He is subsequently dismissed and when he seeks peace and quiet on the farm of his daughter Lucy, both of them fall victim to violence by blacks. The novel appeared in 1999, exactly a year after the publication of the massive five-volume Truth and Reconciliation Commission of South Africa Report . Nearly every critic noticed that the story of the downfall of Professor David Lurie in Disgrace could be read as a description of the upheaval of a country in transition. The representation of this upheaval drew considerable national and international attention and sparked a continuous debate about what readers felt was Coetzee’s pitch-black vision of the near future of South Africa. The fact that there were clear-cut differences between black, white and gender-specific interpretations of the novel was a striking feature of this heated debate. Black readers and critics characterized the trenchant images of black violence as unproductive and stereotypical, while white readers saw the way in which the white Lucy takes her historical colonial guilt upon her shoulders as far too fatalistic (Banville, 2000; Gorra, 1999). Feminist readings, moreover, criticized the affirmation of the connection between passivity and femininity (see also Krog, 2004). For instance, the literary scholar Elleke Boehmer, who grew up in South Africa, wondered whether reconciliation in the context of a violent history is possible if women, in this case the white Lucy or the wife of the black Petrus, are still expected to bear gender-specific inequality and suffer in silence (Boehmer, 2002). The novel Agaat was published five years later, in 2004. Its author is that other giant of South African literature, Marlene van Niekerk. In Agaat the reader witnesses the complex interaction between the dying white farmer’s wife, Milla, and her black carer, Agaat. Milla is paralysed and unable to talk. Throughout the novel she tries to communicate with Agaat by moving her eyes. The two women, who are condemned to each other as patient and carer in the narrative present, share a heartrending and Buikema: Crossing the Borders of Identity Politics 311 complex past that is unravelled bit by bit when Agaat reads fragments of Milla’s dairy to Milla on her deathbed. This novel too fell prey to a debate about the kind of things van Niekerk tries to say about the future of South Africa. Van Niekerk is an Afrikaans- speaking author who also writes in that language, and the South African reception of her novel concentrates specifically on the position allocated to the endangered Afrikaner minority culture in her vision of post- apartheid South Africa. There were serious allegations from the politically conservative wing in particular, who blamed van Niekerk for squander - ing Afrikaner heritage. The cultural philosopher Johann Rossouw accused van Niekerk of pleading for the selfopheffing (voluntary elimination) of Afrikaner culture in favour of an opportunistic association with a global - izing English-speaking South African cultural elite (Rossouw, 2005). This led to a response by Andries Visagie, lecturer in Afrikaans and Dutch, who challenged Rossouw in an essay titled ‘ Agaat as Cultural Archive for the Future’ in the digital South African journal Litnet (Visagie, 2005). Visagie agrees with the view that Agaat is a comment on the position of Afrikaner culture, but he is somewhat more sensitive to the novel’s com - plexity. He is at a loss to understand how Rossouw can argue that van Niekerk treats Afrikaner culture as a lost cause in Agaat . The novel informs the reader at length about the richness of Afrikaner folksongs, proverbs, children’s rhymes, crafts, agricultural methods, sound farmer’s lore and other traditions still available to the Afrikaans-speaking South African. This is no selfopheffing , but the acknowledgement of a subcultural canon. What Agaat does undermine, according to Visagie, is the self- evident legitimacy and status of this cultural heritage in Afrikaner ideol ogy. This status needs to be reformulated and that is why the novel may function as an archive of the future. In the Netherlands, the academic reception of this recently translated novel has not been documented yet, but the journalistic reception of Agaat explicitly states that the lengthy novel’s true meaning is allegori cal. In an admiring review in the Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant (12 May 2006), Fred de Vries writes for instance that ‘the strong psychological plot makes Agaat suitable for readers who do not know that much about South Africa. But the story goes far beyond that level. Agaat is an allegory of Afrikaner history of the past fifty years.’ He carefully connects the dates of the family story to historical facts. The birth of Agaat coincides with the institutionalization of apartheid in 1948, and the birth date of another central character recalls the Sharpeville protest instigated by schoolchildren in 1960. De Vries sees the subtle symbiotic power play between the white Milla and the black Agaat as metaphorical for racial and political relations in South Africa. Milla’s progressive muscular dis - ease is symbolical of the exhaustion of farmland and the decline of Afrikaner hegemony. And so on. 312 European Journal of Women’s Studies 16(4) ART AND COMMUNITY BUILDING The cultural and literary critics mentioned earlier are aware of the fact that in these specific novels art, on the one hand, and political and historical reality, on the other, have entered into a cogent relationship. It is of course true that works of art that are rooted in a period of political transition have a self-evident urgency and significance that cannot easily be claimed by all art. But even though the theme of political transition plays a prominent part in my research, it is not my main concern in this article. In less pressing political circumstances too, cultural artefacts can present opportunities for identification and are in that sense community building, which involves excluding and including groups. In the past decades, the identity-constitut - ing effects of art and its concomitant inclusionary and exclusionary mecha - nisms have featured in various disciplines within the humanities. More generally, art and culture are seen as important producers of cultural mem - ory in any context (see, for example, Bal et al., 1999; Buikema, 2006). The underlying idea is that cultural artefacts come about in a forcefield of global and local developments and that, as a sign system and text, the work of art has an openness and mobility that Bakhtin and Kristeva have described with the term ‘intertextuality’ (Bakhtin, 1982; Kristeva, 1974). Their concept of intertextuality is not exclusively limited to literary examples. Every sign system absorbs other intended and unintended sign systems. Bakhtin’s famous dictum that ‘the word does not forget its own path’ always illus - trates this process best. That is to say that every text bears the echoes of other texts and is also in dialogue with other texts, which implies that the attribution of meaning is a project that is never fully realized.